


Release: Talk, Trials, Peace

by DelightfullyHuman



Series: Slyjaku Shibari [3]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Safeword Use, Shibari, bluejaku - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyHuman/pseuds/DelightfullyHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He really does love the time he spends with Koujaku, but when even shibari begins to make him feel trapped, there's not many other options that Sly feels he has. Koujaku feels otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release: Talk, Trials, Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I would do it, but... Here's another part, for all of you who asked.
> 
> Many thanks to Lessa for her excellent beta work, and for constantly encouraging me (even though she wanted me to name this fic 'Shramp'). I am grateful to you five million times over, baby.

It started that night with Koujaku’s hands on his shoulders, sliding down his bare skin to circle around his wrists. He pressed his chest against Sly’s back, holding him in and trailing kisses and small nips along his neck. Koujaku actually bit him now, whereas before, he was hesitant to hurt him. Or Aoba. But as time passed, Koujaku became more comfortable with his relationship with Sly, and he had begun to be rougher. He had begun to dig his nails into Sly’s hips, fuck him harder and tie him into more strenuous positions. When Sly had asked why the change, Koujaku had simply shrugged.

“Isn’t that the way you like it?” He had said.

It was true. Sly liked to be beaten, thrown down and fucked until he was sore, but Koujaku didn’t do those things, either. His stringent ties and domineering attitude had begun to feel more similar to dislike and indifference rather than passion, and it made Sly feel uncomfortable.

When he wasn’t in control, he had looked through Aoba’s eyes a few times, and seeing the way that Koujaku caressed and doted on Aoba in bed made him jealous. Koujaku didn’t spoil Sly nearly as much, and didn’t hold him except for the end, after he had been untied.

Now, as Koujaku manipulated his arms behind his back by his wrists, Sly began to wonder if Koujaku exercised such control over him on purpose. To keep Sly in place, and happy, so that Koujaku could have Aoba back as soon as possible. Sly trusted Koujaku not to hurt him, and to please him, but he was beginning to realize that Koujaku might not truly love him.

“Keep them there,” Koujaku growled into his ear, and Sly shrunk down a little as he kept his arms in place against his back, parallel to one another. He didn’t want to be tied down like a disobedient pet. He wanted to be cradled and loved, just as Aoba was.

But then, he had always wanted what Aoba had.

Koujaku stepped away from him to take out a couple of lengths of rope, and Sly closed his eyes as he heard the ends hit the floor. If he could immerse himself in this tie, it would be over soon. And then Koujaku would clean him up and hold him, if only for a little while.

“Let’s try something a little more challenging for you,” Koujaku murmured to him as he wound the rope around Sly’s arms. “I’ve always wanted to try this tie. What do you say?”

Sly closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the feel of the rope encircling his forearms and binding them together. Koujaku sounded excited, thrilled with the prospect of attempting this tie. Sly didn’t want to disappoint him. Koujaku’s disappointment would be worse than any imprisonment or physical punishment.

“Green,” he said simply, in lieu of the real answer, and Koujaku rewarded him with a kiss to his bare shoulder.

He felt Koujaku knot the rope around his arms and trail the length up and around his upper arm. Koujaku circled Sly to lay the rope across his chest and around to cross it with the first rope. Once that part was balanced, Koujaku brought the rope back the way he had come, binding Sly’s upper arms to his sides. Sly closed his eyes again as he felt Koujaku begin to secure the ropes and balance them out along the middle of his back, and he tried to interpret each tug and brush of fingertips as loving.

He couldn’t.

After Koujaku had knotted the last bit of rope, he trailed his hands down Sly’s waist and pushed him forward. The sudden movement caused Sly to stumble a little, but he went where he was guided, up against the side of the teak dresser. The edge pressed into his hips, and he turned his head to glance at Koujaku. He couldn’t see his face, only a glimpse of the red of his shirt and the black of his hair. Then Koujaku’s hand settled in the middle of Sly’s upper back, pressing him downward to lie flat on the top of the dresser.

Sly rested his cheek on the cool wood, feeling the ropes press into his skin where he laid on them. He was bent at a neat angle, balanced on the balls of his feet to keep the edge from bearing into the bones of his hips. It was just comfortable enough to remain in without complaint, and Sly gave a small sigh, wondering how Koujaku would tie him next. He was in no rush, though. Koujaku’s warm hand was still on his back, pressing him down, and it trailed down the ropes slowly, touching and testing each track for tightness.

His hand continued down Sly’s lower back to curve over his ass, squeezing the flesh there. Sly liked that, because as much as he wanted Koujaku’s love and soft affection, he still adored being owned by him, and if Koujaku wanted to treat him like a toy and simply use his body for pleasure, then he supposed that that was Koujaku’s right.

That was all anyone else had ever done.

Sly knew, deep down, that he was foolish for wanting both sexual roughness and sexual love. He couldn’t have Koujaku tie him down and fuck him and then ask for slow lovemaking the next day. That wasn’t how Sly’s world worked. But he was Desire, after all. It was his nature to want and want and want, especially those things that weren’t meant for him to have. He should be grateful now. A turn with their body and Koujaku’s hand should be enough.

So he tried to enjoy it, to focus on Koujaku’s nails drawing over his ass, leaving tingling trails of sensation. Koujaku’s other hand joined the first, kneading his flesh and giving him a light slap. The sound seemed so loud in the relative quiet of the room, but it wasn’t loud enough to keep Sly from wondering to himself if Koujaku ever spanked Aoba.

Another slap was delivered to the opposite side, and Sly tilted his hips up to invite more. Although Koujaku was light of hand, keeping the strikes centered on his fingers rather than his palm, they still stung, sending heat pooling into his lower belly.

A sound behind him and a shift of air indicated that Koujaku had knelt down behind him, and Sly squirmed in place. He heard Koujaku give a small laugh, his voice low and his breath hot against Sly's tender skin. His hands remained in place, one on each cheek, squeezing and spreading them apart. Sly blushed. He still felt vulnerable when he was first exposed, and he opened his mouth to take a breath, but it turned into an indignant squeak when he felt Koujaku’s tongue brush against his hole.

Koujaku didn’t stop, each stroke of his tongue fleeting and teasing, and Sly began to feel hot with his arousal. He squirmed against the dresser, but Koujaku held him tight, keeping him down and spread open. Sly closed his eyes tightly as Koujaku continued to lick him, light touches around his rim and against his entrance that felt almost too good.

Sly had never been rimmed before, and his hands curled and uncurled helplessly, tied down as they were. And even if they hadn’t been, all he would be able to do was grasp at the wood of the dresser and whimper in pleasure.

Even on the days when he had been completely wanting and needy, he had never felt so wet, so open and relaxed than he was now from just a few teasing swipes of Koujaku’s tongue. The strokes became firmer every so often, pressing just inside, before returning to the butterfly light touches that made Sly’s toes curl. He wanted more, desperately so, and he would be satisfied just to rub off against the dresser, but he felt like he deserved more.

Sly squirmed, his voice finding him again as Koujaku curled his fingers even tighter into his ass. “Koujaku,” he gasped out, deciding that if Koujaku wouldn’t love him, he could fuck him instead. “Give me something. Fuck me, come on!”

He felt Koujaku pull back and laugh. “Have some patience, would you?” He teased, and while the bickering was something characteristic of them, Sly didn’t want to put up with it today. He was sick to death of begging for everything he was given, from Koujaku or from Aoba or anyone else.

“Now!” He hissed, feeling Koujaku stand up and curl his hand around the ropes along his spine. He pulled Sly upright and pushed him towards the bed, and excitement coursed through him at the prospect of being thrown down onto it and taken.

But instead, Koujaku stopped him halfway, placing his hands on Sly’s shoulders and pressing him down, forcing Sly to sit cross legged on the floor. He was still wet between his legs, and hard, and it felt strange to sit on the floor that way. He glared up at Koujaku, still fully dressed and holding another length of rope.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Koujaku chided, unraveling the rope and smoothing it out. He began to wrap the looped end around Sly’s legs where his shins crossed, once, twice. He knotted it there, keeping Sly’s legs closed, and earning a scowl. He suddenly didn’t want to be tied anymore.

“What’s the point of this?” Sly asked, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt.

“The tie?” Koujaku asked, pausing where he knelt in front of Sly. He obviously misunderstood the question, because he began to answer. “It’s more stringent, but I think you’ll like it. It’s a challenge, and you’ll look so pretty in it.” Koujaku leaned forward to kiss Sly, and Sly responded just enough to keep Koujaku from becoming suspicious. He didn’t want to be tied, but Koujaku sounded so eager to see him covered in rope. 

And Koujaku was smiling at him, and Sly didn’t want to disappoint him. Aoba was letting him be in control more, be with Koujaku more, and Koujaku accepted it and paid attention to him. He would be a fool to screw it up by being selfish.

So when Koujaku placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed him down until he was bent in half, Sly went, holding himself there while Koujaku brought the rope up over his shoulder and down his back to loop into the ropes encircling his arms. Koujaku tightened the rope a little, pushing Sly down even more. Then the rope was coming up the other side and over his opposite shoulder, keeping him bent forward. Koujaku looped the rope through the tie on his legs again, then repeated the previous motion, crossing over Sly’s shoulders and back. With plenty of rope left over, Koujaku began to circle it around the short length leading from Sly’s ankles to his neck, tightening it and leaving little room to move and shift, lest he fall over.

Once the end of the rope was knotted off, Koujaku reached up to sweep Sly’s hair forward, off of his back to shield his face. Sly was sure it was an accident, and only due to the fact that his hair was so long now, but he was still grateful. He didn’t want Koujaku to see his face. He tried to remain still as Koujaku stood up and circled him to survey his work, each footstep somehow sounding harsh against the floor.

Each tie Koujaku had put him in in the past had been enjoyable, something that held him up or held him in, making him feel cradled and put together, but this one… It was uncomfortable, and it forced him down rather than inward. It bent his back and his head in a position that could only be construed as submissive. What was worse, Koujaku was standing above him instead of being down on the floor with him, walking around him as if he was something to be inspected and judged.

He was unsure if Koujaku actually looked at him that way, but it felt like it. He felt small, and not in a good way. Was this a punishment? Had he done something wrong? That Koujaku would force him to bow and submit in such a way, with something he enjoyed? Sly didn’t mind begging Koujaku to fuck him harder or to pull his hair or to let him come, but he refused to beg for forgiveness. He didn’t want to plead for something that he wanted more than life, because it made him feel small and ashamed, like a child.

Sly wanted to cry. He felt suddenly sick, and he shifted slightly in his bonds to relieve some of the pressure on his folded legs, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. Koujaku’s footsteps came to a stop in front of him, and Sly shrunk down a little more, unsure of his intention. Sly couldn’t pleasure Koujaku like this, not unless he was physically moved.

“Look at you,” Koujaku murmured. “So beautiful.”

Of course. Only beautiful when he was tied down and twisted to Koujaku’s will. Just as Aoba kept him locked away, and how Tae had aided. How the yakuza twins had hounded his steps and his dark dreams, trying to mold him into something they wanted. All he had wanted was to be his own, but now even the man he loved preferred to see him like this, humiliated.

“How are you doing, Sly?”

Sly mumbled, almost to himself, his voice watery and small, and it felt like surrender to give up like this, but it was better than continuing the way he was.

“What was that?” Koujaku asked, kneeling down again to hear Sly better.

“Red,” Sly repeated, louder now. He began to pull against the ropes, panic welling up in his chest, the trapped feeling threatening to swallow him whole. “Red!”

Koujaku jumped, startled at hearing their safeword, his hands flying to the ropes, tugging at the knots, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough. Sly began to struggle, his vision blurring with tears.

“Red, red, let me out, Koujaku. Please, I don’t want to do this!”

Koujaku dropped the ropes and moved quickly, reaching for the bag he kept the ropes in, pulling out the pair of safety scissors he kept there. The flash of metal sent fear through Sly’s chest, but two quick snips and the rope fell away from his neck. Another and the rope loosened from his legs. Sly sat up, gasping for breath, feeling dizzy at the sudden movement. It gave Koujaku enough time to crawl around him to cut the ropes from his arms and pull it away, freeing Sly completely.

And then he stood, stepping away and letting Sly rip the shreds of rope away from his skin. He sobbed, letting the panic wash over him, but it was a relief to be free. He stood on shaky legs, stumbling to press himself against the wall, hiding his face and wishing he could disappear. He tried to call to Aoba, to beg him to switch back, but Aoba was deep in their consciousness, asleep on their memories and too far gone to awaken. Sly was alone.

He took deep shuddering breaths, his legs aching and his skin tingling. His head began to hurt, and he wiped at his tears, wishing Koujaku would leave him to his shame. But instead, his footsteps approached Sly carefully, his voice achingly soft as he spoke.

“Sly?” He began. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

When Sly didn’t answer, Koujaku crept a little closer, gingerly. Sly let him, until he was close enough to touch. And he did, hesitantly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair over Sly’s shoulder. Sly didn’t react, so Koujaku tried again, running his hand over his back soothingly.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Sly. “Thank you for safewording out. I would never forgive myself if I caused you pain. How can I fix it? How can I make it up to you?”

Sly pulled away, just out of Koujaku’s reach. How dare he use kind words now? “Go away,” he mumbled, hunching in and wrapping his arms around himself. He glanced at Koujaku, his eyes reddened and still damp, distrust and aching in his gaze.

Koujaku looked absolutely shattered, still clothed with the remains of the rope and the scissors still on the floor behind him. His eyes searched Sly’s body for injuries, and when he found none, they returned to his face. Stricken, Koujaku held out his arms, offering warmth and solace to Sly.

He wanted it, he wanted it so badly, and despite his better judgment, he took several unsure steps forward into the circle of Koujaku’s arms, letting him envelope him in a careful embrace. Koujaku held him, stroking his back and letting Sly bury his face in his chest. He rocked them gently, swaying back and forth and kissing Sly’s hair.

“Come lay with me?” He asked after a time, and when Sly didn’t respond negatively, Koujaku led him to the bed, laying him down and pulling him to his chest. Sly went with no protest, feeling as if he was in a daze. He wanted to reject Koujaku, to push him away, but his hands were gentle and he was warm. Sly was weak, so weak.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Koujaku asked softly, holding him a little tighter. “If you don’t, that’s okay, but I want this to be good for you, too. I love you, so much.”

“No, you don’t,” Sly mumbled, curling his hand in Koujaku’s shirt. “You only love Aoba.”

“Hey, now,” Koujaku said, pulling back a little to study Sly’s face, cupping his cheek with one hand. “Where did this come from?”

Sly glanced away. “You treat him different from me.”

“Well, yes,” Koujaku said, confusion furrowing his brow. “You’re different, you like different things. Right?”

Sly shrugged, and Koujaku leaned in to kiss his lips, then his forehead. He ran his thumb over Sly’s jawline, and it was so tender that Sly felt a lump form in his throat.

“Yeah, but,” he began almost in a whisper. “You don’t touch me like you touch him.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you fuck him, it’s sweet, and you hold his hands and kiss him a lot and tell him you love him over and over. He thinks you’re fucking embarrassing. But with me, you just… Tie me up.”

Koujaku seemed to flounder there, concern in his eyes. He moved his hand, wiping at the tear tracks on Sly’s cheeks and brushing his hair back. “Shibari involves a lot of trust. I wouldn’t do it with you if I didn’t love you. But I… I thought you liked it.”

“I do,” he whispered. “But you only ever tie me up.”

“So… You want me to be with you like I am with Aoba?”

Sly paused for a moment, looking away. “Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?” Koujaku asked, his smile returning. But it only made Sly angry. He scowled, slamming his fist onto Koujaku’s chest.

“Because it doesn’t work that way!”

“Why not?” Koujaku asked, his smile fading a little. But his eyes were fond, and he gazed as Sly as if he were a precious thing. “If you want me to be rough with you or tie you up one night, and then simply make love to you the next, just tell me. You can have both. You can have all that you want. But I can’t read your mind, Sly. You have to communicate with me.”

Sly frowned, shifting forward to bury his face in Koujaku’s chest again. Koujaku accommodated him, running his hands over his back and nuzzling his hair. He planted several lingering kisses on his head, each one impossibly loving. Sly wanted to hate him.

“I know it’s hard,” Koujaku murmured, continuing to pet Sly and soothe his frazzled nerves with his strong hands and deep voice. “But I won’t judge you. Anything you want, I’ll do my best to give it to you. I just need to know what it is. I should tell this to Aoba, too… Because I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you.”

“Shut up,” Sly complained against his chest. “You sound like an idiot.”

Koujaku laughed, his chest almost vibrating with the sound, and he pulled back again to look down at Sly, his gaze affectionate. Sly glanced up at him, deflating a little. He uncurled his fist, smoothing out Koujaku’s shirt apologetically.

“Sorry you had to cut your rope.”

“I don’t care about the rope,” Koujaku said. “I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”

“But you were excited, you wanted to try it,” Sly protested. “I should have just-“

“No,” Koujaku interrupted, gently scratching at Sly’s upper back, soothing away the feeling of the rope still pressing into the skin there. “I was excited, so much so that I didn’t check in on you like I should have. It’s my fault, and for that I’m sorry.”

Sly didn’t answer, avoiding Koujaku’s gaze. He still felt raw, but he wanted to believe Koujaku. He did still trust him, but he was scared. It would take time for him to be able to fully let go of his hang ups, but maybe it would be easier if Koujaku would continue to be so kind.

“Sly,” he said, bringing Sly’s attention back. “Tell me what you want. It can be anything, if you need some time alone, or if you just want me to hold you some more, I will.”

Sly thought for a moment. He had always wanted power, control, but now that it was offered to him, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. What did he want, right at this moment?

“I want…” He began quietly, still unsure. “I want you to treat me like you treat Aoba. Just for right now.”

There was a moment when Koujaku didn’t react, but then he smiled. He pressed Sly down onto his back, leaning over him and kissing him slowly, one hand cupping his cheek and then trailing down. His fingers brushed over Sly’s neck and down his chest, strumming over his ribs and caressing his belly. His hand left a warmth everywhere it went, and Sly sighed into the kiss as Koujaku’s palm curled around his hip. It lingered there as Koujaku kissed his lips deeply.

There was a tenderness in his movements, and Sly almost felt as though it was stolen, but it sent relief spreading through his chest. He felt impossibly warm as he was kissed, Koujaku’s tongue brushing his lips in a lazy sort of appreciation, and Sly sighed. At that, Koujaku pulled back, a smile on his face and care in his dark eyes.

“Do you still want to?” He whispered, his hand sliding down Sly’s thigh. “We don’t have to if you’d rather not. I’ll just hold you if that will make you happy.”

Sly shook his head, biting his kiss swollen lips. “I want you,” he said, reaching up to pull the tie from Koujaku’s hair and letting the cool lengths slip over his fingers.

“Again,” Koujaku breathed, closing his eyes. Sly smiled a little, running his hand through Koujaku’s hair and pushing it back to reveal the tattoo on his cheek. Both he and Aoba knew what it meant, what it represented, and Sly loved it to pieces. He touched the black marks carefully, tracing them with his fingertips.

“I want you,” he said again, and Koujaku opened his eyes to gaze down at Sly.

“I love you.”

Sly blushed, turning his head away with a pout. “Don’t start saying-“

“Don’t shut down,” Koujaku pleaded softly, bending down to kiss Sly’s cheek, then his jaw, then just under his neck. “Don’t pull away from me. I know it’s hard for you, but… I want you, too. All of you. I know it won’t happen all at once, and we have a lot of hardships ahead, but I’m willing to stay by your side, if you’ll let me.”

Sly stared firmly at the wall, unwilling to look back at Koujaku when he felt tears pricking at his eyes. Not even Aoba had accepted him so wholly, with no expectations or conditions. He covered his eyes with his hand, his lips quivering.

“Promise me one thing?” Koujaku continued, pulling Sly’s hand away gently and threading their fingers together. “That you’ll try to talk to me more? So that I can make you happy?”

Sly didn’t trust himself to speak, but he nodded. That seemed to be enough for Koujaku, who simply smiled and leaned down for another sweet kiss. He moved his hand, then, pulling Sly’s leg up to bend at the knee. His fingertips trailed down the inside of his thigh to brush against his entrance. Sly shivered at the dry touch; Koujaku’s saliva hadn’t lasted terribly long.

Koujaku had to move to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, and Sly mourned the loss of his weight and his heat, but it was only a moment before he was back, lying along Sly’s side and propped up on one hand. His other hand, his dominant one, skated along the planes of Sly’s chest, and he watched Sly’s face as he teased his fingertips over his nipples, studying each reaction. It was like he was committing each movement to memory, to catalogue and reflect on later, like a starved man in the desert.

Sly knew that was bullshit. Koujaku had both him and Aoba, and he was more than spoiled. To have not just one, but two to love and pleasure, but Sly had to admit that he had adapted beautifully, where others would have floundered at their separate needs.

Koujaku’s hand continued to drift down his stomach and lower belly, where it stopped. He picked up the bottle of lube, flicking the top open and upending it over Sly, squeezing the cool gel over his cock. The sudden chill on his heated flesh made Sly jump and protest, but Koujaku only grinned at him. He tossed the bottle to the side and grasped Sly’s cock, warming the lube over it and stroking him lazily to full hardness. He paid special attention to the head and the underside, his talented fingers teasing and gentle, and he soon had Sly squirming under his hand.

By now, his fingers were covered in the slick lubricant, and he moved them down to circle Sly’s entrance, already relaxed and sensitive from the thorough rimming he had received earlier. Sly gave a strangled little cry, so unlike Aoba’s wanton moaning, but it was a reaction all the same, and it seemed to spur Koujaku on. He pressed a single finger inside of Sly, achingly slowly, but Sly’s body accepted him easily.

“You’re so relaxed,” Koujaku murmured into his ear, sliding his finger back and forth rhythmically, allowing Sly to get used to the intrusion.

“Yeah, well,” Sly grumbled, turning his head to glare up at Koujaku, who watched him with adoration. “That’s what you get for being so nice.”

Koujaku chuckled, slowly introducing a second finger. “Then I’ll have to be even nicer,” he said, scissoring Sly open with maddening languor.

Sly rolled his eyes, his own hand moving to Koujaku’s pants to pop the button open and drag the zipper down, reaching inside to grasp Koujaku, so far untouched but still hard. Sly stroked him just as slowly as Koujaku was fingering him, hoping for revenge, but Koujaku seemed to enjoy it, closing his eyes and groaning quietly.

They continued that way for a while, Koujaku fingering Sly open and Sly stroking Koujaku’s cock, imagining each inch sinking inside of him as his fingers dragged over it. It made him even hotter, imagining being filled so completely, and he almost laughed at himself. Sly would be the first to admit that he loved cock, and especially Koujaku’s, but he never would have thought that he would get off on vanilla missionary style sex as much as he was.

Perhaps it was the gentleness, the novelty of doing something different, but he felt alight, drowned in kisses and more appreciative touch than he was used to. He hadn’t even been fucked properly yet, but he felt satisfied, sated into a state of lazy delight. So much so that he almost complained when Koujaku moved, pulling his fingers out and sitting up to settle in between Sly’s legs.

He didn’t take long to position himself and begin to press inside, his cock hot against Sly’s skin. Koujaku towered over him, his hands braced against the bed on either side of Sly’s head, his lips parted as he began to shallowly thrust into his lover. Sly curled his hands around Koujaku’s forearms, spreading his legs a little wider and lifting his knees up, caught up in the sensation of being stretched. That, and the look on Koujaku’s face as he stared down at Sly, his eyes hazy with pleasure and pure passion.

Once he was buried in Sly, his hips resting against Sly’s ass, he leaned down for yet another kiss, languid and sweet, and he pulled out nearly all the way before thrusting back in. Koujaku continued that way, each thrust impossibly deep and slow, but it felt so, so good. Sly could feel every drag of Koujaku’s cock against his rim, and each brief tease of his prostate. Somehow, it felt even better than being fucked roughly, if Sly could imagine it, and he couldn’t help but whimper with each breathy pant, wordlessly begging Koujaku to continue in the same fashion.

And he obliged, keeping the pace and showering Sly’s lips and cheeks in chaste kisses. He sank down onto his elbows, tangling his hands in Sly’s wild hair, so much longer now that Aoba had decided to grow it out again. Sly liked it that way. There was so much more to pull. But Koujaku was gentle now, and Sly reached his arms up to wrap around Koujaku’s neck, holding him close and breathing hard into his shoulder.

“Koujaku,” he moaned. “Don’t, don’t stop.”

Koujaku hummed into his neck, his breath hot on Sly’s skin. He moved his arm down to slide under Sly’s hips, tilting them up just enough to allow him to thrust in deeper, wringing another cry from Sly. He still clung to Koujaku’s arm, but with his other hand empty, he reached for his own cock, wet with excess lube and pre-cum. He began to stroke himself, trying to keep in time with each roll of Koujaku’s hips.

Koujaku groaned his name into his skin, kissing his neck and shoulder, wet, desperate kisses that were occasionally edged with teeth. He lifted his head to kiss Sly’s mouth again, and Sly’s other hand tangled in his hair. He pulled gently to get Koujaku’s attention, and Koujaku obliged, looking up at him.

“Yes?” He asked, his tone breathy. If possible, his thrusts slowed even more, and Sly writhed in place, eager for more. He wanted it to last, but he didn’t have the self-discipline to keep his hands off of himself.

“Koujaku,” he murmured, managing to rip his hand from his cock and twist his fingers in the bedsheets beneath him. “Fuck me over the dresser. Like you had me earlier.”

A startled look passed over Koujaku’s face, but then he smiled, a devious sort of grin that made Sly feel wary. Hadn’t Koujaku promised not to judge…? But Koujaku just leaned in to steal another kiss.

“What do you say?” He teased, and Sly squirmed beneath him with a scowl.

“Please.”

Koujaku pulled away, his smile lingering as he pulled out of Sly and crawled off the bed. Sly followed him, tiptoeing around the pieces of rope that lay scattered on the floor. He placed himself in position, bending over the cleared dresser and presenting his ass to Koujaku, who was still almost fully clothed. It made him feel dirty, to bend over to be fucked by a man with his clothes still on, like a slut in the back of a club, and while another might have teased him for it or taken it as an invitation to treat Sly roughly, Koujaku simply ran his hands over Sly’s skin adoringly. He caressed his ass, squeezing again, then spreading his cheeks apart like he had done before.

Sly moaned when he was entered again, his fingers curling against the cool wood of the dresser. Koujaku fucked him just as slowly as he had been, his rough hands running over Sly’s lower back and his ass, appreciating every bit of skin that he could reach. He bent down to trail kisses along Sly’s spine, as well, wet and open-mouthed. It was hot, and delicious, and more than he could have asked for, but Sly still wanted more.

“Touch me,” he whimpered against the wood. “I need it, Koujaku, please.”

Koujaku didn’t make him wait for it. He wrapped a hand around Sly’s cock, pulling gently at it and relishing in the cry of relief Sly made. His thrusts sped up a little, growing wilder and sloppier by the minute, and Koujaku dragged his nails down Sly’s hip with a groan of his name.

Sly twisted one arm behind him, resting his hand palm up on the small of his back. He twitched his fingers, inviting, and Koujaku was quick to release his hip and grip his hand instead, holding it tightly as his thrusts became erratic.

He stilled with a harsh shout, squeezing Sly’s hand and panting his name in a breathy chant. Sly shivered at the thought of Koujaku’s come deep inside of him, and it only served to make him even hotter. Even though he wanted it slow didn’t mean he wasn’t completely filthy, and he hummed in pleasure as Koujaku bent over his back to press even more kisses to his shoulders.

Koujaku stayed buried deep inside of him but continued to stroke his cock, his breaths cool against the wet imprints of each kiss on his back. Sly was just as turned on, and even more so now that Koujaku had come inside of him, and he shifted his hips back to feel Koujaku’s cock. Sly bent his head to rest on the dresser top, biting hard into his bottom lip and focusing on Koujaku’s hand.

Rough and scarred, it was, but it knew just the way to stroke and twist, just how to tease the tip, and the treatment left Sly’s knees trembling with pleasure. And on top of that, Koujaku was murmuring to him, soft words of encouragement and affection.

“Sly, you’ve been so, so good. I can feel you shaking, beautiful, just come for me, and I’ll lay you down and kiss you so much, come on…”

If Sly had been a little more lucid, he would have laughed at Koujaku’s words, but as he was now, they were just boiling sweet, and Sly rut forward into Koujaku’s hand in ecstasy. It was a slow build, but it rose quickly, wracking his body with an intense pleasure he could hardly get enough of. He came across Koujaku’s fingers and the side of the dresser, his knees nearly giving out with the force of his orgasm. He stumbled slightly, but Koujaku held him upright, hushing him and stroking him through the aftershocks until Sly became too overstimulated and pulled him off.

Koujaku stood up and pulled out slowly, rubbing Sly’s lower back as he did so. He reached to help Sly up, gathering him to his chest and pressing kisses to his hair. Sly wound his arms around Koujaku’s waist, still feeling unsure of his legs, but he was content to be held. His head felt light, and his cheeks flushed, but he didn’t complain when Koujaku guided him to the bathroom. Even the sound of the shower failed to rouse him completely, and it wasn’t until the warm water beat down onto his back that he began to focus back on the real world.

“Good?” Koujaku asked him with a smile, pouring shampoo into his hands and scrubbing it through his hair.

Sly watched him for a minute, the water sluicing down the hard planes of his chest, bubbles from the shampoo slipping down his shoulders and arms. He looked ridiculously attractive, now that he was naked, and Sly wanted him again. But he was tired, and instead turned his back to Koujaku.

“Do me,” he demanded, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. He only had to wait a moment before he heard the sound of the shampoo bottle opening, and the sound of the gel being poured into Koujaku’s hand. Sly expected it to hurt, as it did sometimes, but Koujaku’s touch was gentle. He massaged the soap into Sly’s hair, treating him with care and reverence, and it was nothing if not perfect.

Koujaku took it further, washing the rest of his body and making sure to touch every slick inch of skin. He even went so far as to clean his own come from Sly’s ass, despite his protests and ill aimed punches. But afterward, he rinsed them both and dried Sly off with the fluffiest towel he had, patting him dry with affectionate rubs and caresses.

“Kiss,” Sly said, tipping his chin up, demanding. Koujaku smiled, draping the towel over Sly’s head, but he leaned down to oblige him, running his fingers down Sly’s jawline as they shared another kiss.

He let Sly dry him off, too, even if it wasn’t nearly as gentle or thorough, but he seemed satisfied. After a few more kisses, they made their way back to the bed to slip under the sheets. Sly stretched out with a yawn, shifting down into the mattress as Koujaku lay behind him, pulling Sly’s back to his chest. It was warm that way, pressed skin to skin, and Sly sighed with comfort.

“I love you,” Koujaku murmured to him. “So much. I’m going to do my best for you, Sly.”

Sly hummed a little, threading his fingers with Koujaku’s. “You’re an asshole,” he announced sleepily, closing his eyes and letting the warmth and his own satisfaction begin to lull him away.

“But I love you, too. I guess.”

He fell quiet, content to let Koujaku hold him and absently run his fingertips over his stomach. He was happy now, and while he knew it would continue to be a challenge for them, they had made it this far. A little farther would be no hardship.

“Hey,” he mumbled, and Koujaku hummed to show he was listening. “You can tie Aoba, too. If you want. I don’t mind. But you gotta tell me you love me again.”

Koujaku have a soft laugh at that. “Sly,” he said. “I would tell you anyway.”

Sly huffed. “Then do it.”

And so Koujaku held Sly a little tighter, curling around him and threading their fingers together. He gave a contented hum into Sly’s hair, still a little damp, and when he spoke, his voice resonated in a way that sent butterflies flying wildly in Sly’s chest.

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sly was put into an ebi tie, which can be seen [here.](http://www.restrainedelegance.com/preview/lexicon1/reh_20120118_1247778.jpg) It is more difficult to hold, and since this is an established relationship, Koujaku would know how flexible Aoba/Sly is and how far down he would be able to hold this tie. He would also be aware of the pressure points on Aoba/Sly's upper arms. Ties that cross that area risk putting pressure on several nerves, and care should be exercised.  
> While he did not check in as much as in previous installments, Koujaku's response to Sly's use of his safeword was correct. Safety scissors should always be nearby in case of an emergency such as this one. 
> 
> Play safe !


End file.
